


Red

by rebelLinks



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Yoglabs, headcannon, just a drabble thing srry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-22
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2018-03-31 16:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3985126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelLinks/pseuds/rebelLinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But clearer than these, then the faded, confused mess that could be her past. was the sense of being found. Underneath a different canopy of leaves, still very exhausted, and very, very alone, as darkness overtook her vision. Then rough, thin arms, and a brittle voice, speaking words of a panic and a found ally. </p><p>After this, the only images within her mind were copies of the sight currently before her. Red upon red upon glowing oranges, blacks and yellows and whites sometimes dancing past her sight as she rested at the top of the cobble tower.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red

Experiment 61513 had escaped. How exactly still escaped the testificate scientists and doctors of Yoglabs, but from what they could tell, it involved a lot of blood and a stolen morph device, and took place possibly a month ago.

It was not a good turn of events.

The higher ups had been furious of course. Ordered a search to be issued right away, put as many people on the task. All efforts aside though, the experiment had been missing for months. No matter how many AI, testificates, robots, or clones they put on the task, Experiment 61513 had seemingly vanished off of the map.

Eventually, the task of finding the experiment was abandoned, and the project was scrapped for fear of another one getting loose. It was bad enough that one had escaped, and since they could not regain the original experiment to find out what caused the escape, the effort to create another 61513 was closed due to too many variables.

\-------------

She remembered the freckled light of the sun filtered through a canopy of leaves. A heavy sense of exhaustion accompanied the memory, but not much else could be found to explain it. 

If she focused with all her might, on the rare occasion she found peace in this place, she remembered whiteness. Not the cold, colorless void of a blank memory, but a sterile, unrelenting end of white. Where this thought or memory came from, she didn’t know, but it was there. Tucked deep inside her consciousness, hidden amongst the static that was her mind.

But clearer than these, then the faded, confused mess that could be her past. was the sense of being found. Underneath a different canopy of leaves, still very exhausted, and very, very alone, as darkness overtook her vision. Then rough, thin arms, and a brittle voice, speaking words of a panic and a found ally. 

After this, the only images within her mind were copies of the sight currently before her. Red upon red upon glowing oranges, blacks and yellows and whites sometimes dancing past her sight as she rested at the top of the cobble tower. 

The brittle voice from her memory belonged to a man in purple. With flesh made of straw and a face that didn’t quite move as he spoke, he busied around the tower she called home with a busied demeanor. When she asked him about herself, or about him, or the forest, he met her questions with a quiet grumble and then, at the least, a week of avoidance.

When he would return, she could hear him mumble if she listened close and looked distracted in the other direction. Mutters of ‘they can’t find it yet’, and ‘dangerous but useless’’, and ‘a hostage at best’. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t place what he meant. She wondered if he was speaking about her, since she had no idea if others even existed.

She hoped they did. She had so quickly grown tired of the endless fire that was her home. With no other worlds to remember, nor anything to base an imaginary one upon, she could only cling to the hope that one day things might be different. She wondered, if somewhere, there might be more colors. The repetition of the scenery around her quickly grew old, and the sky blent with the background into a constant parade of crimson.

It never occurred to her to try and leave the tower. Maybe it was the constant roaming and groaning of the creatures beneath the tower, or the sweltering heat that perpetuated the area, or perhaps just the unending repetition of the landscape. Instead, she took to perching on top of one of the higher rises at the top of the tower, staring off into the horizon in hopes of one day seeing some color other than red at the end of her vision. 

\---------------

When Sjin led her to the portal, she could only stop and stare at the waving purple in front of her.

Of course she had seen the color before. It was one she only saw on passing occasions, as it made up her rescuer… or perhaps, her captor? Perhaps her nothing. She hadn’t really been trapped there at all, kept in place only by fear and ignorance to an exit. 

The purple varied from the ones of the man, though. Strawfingers, she reminded herself. Sjin had said his name was Strawfingers. It swirled and lived and contrasted so, so much from the red that was the nether. In the background of her mind, she heard him mention someone following, and managed a confused ‘what?’ before he assured her it was fine to pass through. She felt hesitance to leave the purple behind, yet her eagerness to see what lied beyond this world shoved her forward.

When the world faded from purple to not, she nearly cried.

Stepping from the gray indent in stone that held the portal, she was met with a sky the brightest shade of blue, with trees as green as the leaves held deep within her foggy mind. Peaked roofs of browns and yellows and flowers and plants of every hue, and air that wasn’t thick with smoke and haze. She felt herself make comments at Sjin’s tour, more than heard herself. She was too wrapped up in soaking in every last detail of the land before her to bother with tales of mines and barns and fields. 

She hoped, quietly, that she would get to stay in this world forever. A voice in her head said she wouldn’t, but she shoved it down with each new discovery and sight. One day, the static in her mind would clear, she knew, and she would have to return to the white that haunted her. But for now, there was a sk, and a vast, open world before her, and that was enough.


End file.
